Unguarded
by rebelxxwaltz
Summary: After the events of 'Grave' Buffy and Giles let their guard down both emotionally and physically. Could they be something more than Watcher and Slayer, if only for one night? For anyone who thought Buffy should have jumped Giles' bones during 'Grave'.
1. Chapter 1

Hey everyone! I wrote another story. This time, it's actually short! Just this part and one other. I swear. No, seriously, I really promise this time! Two part fic! Less than 10,000 words! I'm hoping to write more stories like this if it turns out well. Lots of B/G scenarios I would like to explore, and this seems like a fun way to do it. Hope you guys will like it!

**Title: **Unguarded 1/2**  
Author:** mischiefmagnet**  
Rating:** This chapter is probably **T. **The fic as a whole is very much **M.  
Summary:** After the events of _Grave_ Buffy and Giles let their guard down, both emotionally and physically. Could they be something more than Watcher and Slayer, if only for one night?**  
Spoilers:** Up to the end of season 6.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own BtVS or the characters. I just like to play with them (creepy Drusilla voice) like nice little dollies. :P

**Unguarded: Part 1**

Rupert Giles had developed quite a skill for assessing his own injuries over his years of keeping Watch here on the Hellmouth. He was an expert at telling whether the wounds were superficial, whether any bones were broken, if he would need stitches, whether or not he were concussed (more often than not), or if there was internal bleeding and a trip to the hospital looming in the near distance of his future.

In this particular case, Willow _had_ beat the hell out of him. Fortunately, much of her damage had been magical in origin and execution. This left a stinging ache, but he had managed to avoid more traditional internal injury. Mostly. Being bashed against the ceiling and the floor had been a bit more worrisome, but the magic lent to him by the Coven had helped to cushion those blows to a certain extent. The thing that had caused him the most discomfort, in actuality, had been Willow's violent acquisition of that borrowed power, along with his own. It had been excruciating, like having all the life-force ripped out of him in one agonizing millisecond. His energy was sapped, and although there was no purely physical effect to speak of apart from a few sore ribs, the spiritual pain and loss of vitality had been paralyzing.

He had known that Xander had been successful in stopping the out of control witch instantaneously; at the very moment she released her hold on the magic Giles felt the vestiges of his own innate power drifting back to him, depleted but intact. He hadn't felt this magically shagged out since his demon-raising days, but it was a sensation he was willing to bear while secure in the knowledge that the world and his loved ones were now safe.

Once he had been able to move again, he had- with the overwhelmingly solicitous assistance of Anya- managed to deposit himself onto the couch in the Summers' living room. He was bruised, battered, and still slightly bloody along the side of his face. Anya had offered to clean the wound, but Giles hadn't felt up to any more of her enthusiastic attention just then. His coat had been removed and left in the entryway of the house, but the rest of his clothes were equally caked in dust from the scene of destruction at the Magic Box. His exhausted mind wondered how Joyce Summers would have reacted to the sight of Rupert Giles in his ultimate state of filth wreaking devastation unto her cushions. He must have looked quite a sight, really, but he was too tired to care.

Giles had just begun to drift off into a fitful sleep when he heard the door to the house open and slowly close. Hushed feminine voices whispered at the bottom of the stairs, and one set of feet began to climb them. The other footsteps approached the living room, now barely lit in the weakening light of dusk. In the doorway, he could see the outline of Buffy's form. Lit from behind, her features were obscured. After a few moments, she approached, quick steps carrying her across the room. Giles felt the couch sink just slightly as she knelt beside him, pressing a hand to his forehead tenderly as if to check his temperature. Buffy exhaled audibly, reassured by the evidence of his life force, the warmth carried by the blood that still pumped through his veins. Her hand dropped slowly and he reached out to grab it as it fell to her lap, needing that same comfort, wanting to feel the pulsing connection and proof that they were both still alive.

Relaxing slightly, Buffy leaned against the cushions next to him. Her voice was quiet, but clear. "I'm so glad you're alright. I was worried that… I mean, Anya had said… but then when she told me you were alive I was-"

"Shhh. I'm fine." He squeezed her hand.

She looked at him skeptically, taking in his thoroughly demolished appearance. Her examination bore concern, but also a note of teasing. "You sure about that?"

Grinning and wincing slightly at the same time, Giles shifted into a slightly more upright position on the couch. "Perhaps not so magnificent at the moment, but after some sorely needed rest I should rally quite effectively."

"If you can still talk like that you _must_ be okay."

"I will be, I promise. Where is Willow now?"

Buffy leaned her head into her left hand, elbow propped along the back of the couch. Her other hand was still twined with Giles', seemingly requiring that connection. "She's kind of attached to Xander at the moment, so he took her to rest at his place. I think he makes her feel…" Buffy hesitated, searching for the right word. " …safe, I guess. I told him I'd check up in a few hours."

Nodding silently, Giles allowed his eyes to drift shut for a few moments. When they opened again, he regarded Buffy with his attentive green gaze. "It would probably be best if you went upstairs and got some sleep. You don't look much less exhausted than I feel."

"Oh no you don't. I'm not resting until after I've taken care of you."

"Buffy, I assure you. It's not necessary. I-" Giles felt a strange jolt as he was silenced by a finger pressed to his lips.

"Uh-uh. After everything you did today, you're getting some Slayer TLC whether you like it or not."

He gave his consent by remaining quiet. This seemed like a good enough answer for Buffy, as she rose to her feet and held out her hands to him in a caring gesture. He grasped them, allowing her to pull him into an upright position. She supported him with the deceptive strength of her small body and began to lead him toward the stairs. "Come on, Watcher guy. We'll get you cleaned up and you can catch some z's in Willow's room."

Giles leaned his weight against Buffy, giving into the overwhelming urge to let her look after _him_, this time.

**xxxxxxxxxx**

The depth of her relief at finding out that he was alive had been almost alarming in its intensity. When Anya had told them that Giles might not have much time left, Buffy had been devastated. He had come back; and even if it was because of Willow and not for her, she felt like things were finally right between them again. His absence had been difficult for her, but there were things she had needed to learn on her own. Now she could face him without feeling resentment. Regret maybe, for the way things had been before he went back to England, but tempered by understanding. The thought of losing him now that they were okay again made Buffy's heart jump into her throat. On a day that was an emotional roller coaster in so many ways, it was almost more than she could take.

Giles was still here, though. She felt an insane urge to be as physically close to him as possible now that she knew he was alive- as though holding onto him would prove that the scene of their bittersweet laughter and wholehearted reconciliation at the Magic Box hadn't been a dream. It already seemed so long ago, even though it had only been hours.

She thought about those moments as she helped him climb the stairs. Buffy had realized some important things about Giles while he was away. One of the most important being that his role in her life was not that of a surrogate father. She had never really thought of Giles that way, but when Quentin Travers had first made the implication she had found herself strangely confused and unaccountably disappointed at the thought of her Watcher's apparent 'father's love' for her. In his most recent absence, Buffy realized that Giles had gone to great pains in the years following the botched Cruciamentum to debunk Travers' theory without making any out-and-out denials. His actions showed that he couldn't- or wouldn't- fill that father-shaped hole in her world.

At the beginning of her freshman year of college, when Olivia had been in town, he had rebelled against his status as an authority figure in her life. Again, he had not behaved the least bit like an indulgent parent when she insisted on using his home as the venue for her ill-fated Thanksgiving feast. After she died and came back from the grave he had given her money to help with her bills, carefully sidestepping the idea of his showing a parental interest with his awkward comment about a 'rakish uncle'. He had resented every attempt she had made to shirk her duties as Dawn's guardian or to fall back on him as a security blanket when a task came up that she didn't want to handle on her own. And finally, when all else failed, he had forced her to stand on her own. He had all but said that he wasn't her father and couldn't be there just to make life easy for her. Maybe he needed her to be an adult just as much as she needed it for herself.

The other thing that Buffy had realized was more recent, something that was interesting but less than helpful. It had occurred to her that her feelings about Giles were… confused. To say the least. And it had taken the perspective of his going away and the surprise of his return to bring this realization to the forefront. She hadn't had much time to think it over, but once she realized it she knew that the turmoil of her feelings was not new. The strangely familiar thrill she had felt when he pulled her into his embrace had been enough to tell her that.

Buffy wasn't doing much better at the present moment, feeling unnerving tingles all through her body as Giles leaned against her, molding the side of his body along her form. Her arm encircled his waist, head tucked against his chest as she led him down the hallway toward the bathroom. His clothes were dusty, and she could smell the blackness of ozone left over from the volleys of magic that had passed between him and Willow. Just under that, though, was a tantalizing remnant of aftershave, a hint of wickedly familiar cologne worn by nobody else she had ever met. The combination was making the Slayer light-headed.

"Errr, Buffy, where are we going?"

It seemed he remembered the house well enough to know they weren't headed toward Willow's room. "Bathroom. I can't tuck you in until I've taken a look at the cut on your face. It's a lot harder to patch you up if you're zonked."

He gave her a tired smile, allowing her to lead him into the small bathroom and sit him down on the closed toilet seat. Buffy's breath caught when she saw his eyes, super green and paler than they normally looked under the bright glare of the bathroom light. She reached out instinctively to caress the bloodied side of his face, noticing the way his eyebrows scrunched together in a brief moment of incomprehension. "Umm, I'll get the first aid kit in a sec. Let me just clean you off a bit first."

She reached into the cabinet for a clean washcloth, turning the hot water on and rummaging for a fresh bar of soap. "I'm sorry about your clothes, but I don't think I have anything else in the house that would fit you. Maybe you'd be more comfortable without your sweater, though."

"You're probably right. I can't imagine my undershirt could possibly be as filthy." Flinching just slightly at the ache in his ribs, he pulled the ruined sweater over his head, tossing it onto the floor next to the hamper.

Buffy wondered absently whether it was only her who felt the charge in the air surrounding herself and Giles, or if he could sense it too. She figured it was probably just her being weird, noticing his eyes and the strong line of his jaw, thinking that he looked leaner and yet more solid than she could ever remember him being before. As she gently wiped the blood and grime from his face, he closed his eyes and made a small sound. Buffy worried for a moment that she was hurting him, but his lips were turned slightly upward and his expression betrayed no pain.

Wanting to break the uncomfortable and heavy silence, Buffy ventured a question that had been floating at the edge of her mind. "Giles… what's going to happen to Willow now?"

It took him a few moments to answer. His eyes opened, fixing her own. He exhaled raggedly, a symptom of his exhaustion. "I'm not quite sure yet, to be honest. The only thing I can think to do is bring her to the Coven. They may be able to help."

The first aid kit was open beside the sink, and Buffy had begun to disinfect the small cut next to Giles' eyebrow. "I… Do you think that will work? I mean, will she _want_ to be helped? Is she…" Buffy knew what she wanted to ask, but it was hard to frame into words. "Is she _Willow_ now or is she somebody else?"

Giles quirked a small smile. "Your question is a good one, and I don't blame you for asking it. I can assure you, however, that she _is_ Willow. She has never been anybody else. The magic may have corrupted her, but it could not change who she really _is_. Believe me, I know." His expression was a little bit far away, and she knew he was thinking back on some of the more painful remembrances of his past.

In mere minutes she had his wound cleaned, butterfly stitched, and neatly covered with gauze. She gently touched the dressing, ensuring that it was properly taped. Satisfied, she let her hand drop to his shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Buffy's next question was whispered. "Giles, is she going to be okay?" There was a second question built into her query, unasked except within the turbulent flicker of her eyes: '…_and what about the rest of us?'_

His hand came up to rest atop hers, still at his shoulder. "I don't know, Buffy." His gaze was avid, and when he continued speaking she found herself wondering if Willow was the only thing he was talking about. "I wish I could give you a better answer, but right now nothing is certain."

Buffy nodded, feeling like there were two separate conversations happening at the same time, trembling reflexively as his slightly rough hand caressed hers. Her bewildered mind begged to differ with his answer, thinking that there was at least one thing that _was_ certain: his touch, _Giles' _seemingly innocent touch against the sensitive skin of her fingers, was affecting her in ways she had never allowed herself to imagine before.

**xxxxxxxxxx  
xxxxxxxxxx**

There! That's the first half. There's one more chapter to go, which will probably be at least 60 percent smut. What do you guys think so far? Is it just me, or did everybody think Buffy should have jumped Giles' bones during _Grave_? Hot fudge sundaes to anyone who reviews to agree/disagree with me! :)


	2. Chapter 2

Here's part two for you guys, and this fic is hereby complete! Hope you'll enjoy it. :)

**Title: **Unguarded 2/2**  
Author:** mischiefmagnet**  
Rating:** This chapter is **M. M M M.  
Summary:** After the events of _Grave_ Buffy and Giles let their guard down, both emotionally and physically. Could they be something more than Watcher and Slayer, if only for one night?**  
Spoilers:** Up to the end of season 6.

**Disclaimer: **carries over from part one.

**Unguarded: Part 2**

Giles wondered if he were the only one who felt the tension crackling between himself and Buffy. One could almost speculate that the electricity he thought he felt in her touch was just a pesky side effect of the extreme levels of magic he had been exposed to in the past twenty-four hours. For that reason, and many others if he were honest with himself, he tried valiantly to ignore the beguiling sensations brought upon by her touch. The warmth of her strong body and her arm snaked around his waist made his pulse race, an exhilarating counterpoint to the exhaustion in his limbs. Before he knew it, they had reached the doorway of Willow's room.

Flipping on the lights, set mercifully dim, Giles toed his shoes off and let Buffy lead him toward the bed. He probably could have managed on his own at this point, tired though he might be, but he was strangely disinclined to refuse her assistance. It was nice to be taken care of- regardless of how loudly his inner Ripper was screaming that even if her insistent nursemaiding was most welcome, it was by no means the only form of attention he wanted her to pay to him.

These thoughts of Buffy were usually kept locked deep in the back of the Watcher's mind, occasionally floating to the surface over the years, but never taking enough of a foothold to reveal themselves. In his state of extreme fatigue and mystical bankruptcy and with her so close at hand it was easy to let his control slip just the smallest bit. Buffy was being so gentle and attentive, her scent surrounding him, obviously as attached to him as he was to her. It was making Giles' mind travel to places he had spent years carefully schooling it to avoid.

"Here, let me pull the covers down."

As Buffy spoke, she stretched her free arm across the front of Giles' body to reach the top of the comforter. Her positioning was such that if Giles were merely to shift one arm to envelop her, they would be caught in an embrace. She was so intent on her task, he managed to resist by observing her determined movements.

"There, all set." One hand still around his waist to support him, she placed the other on his shoulder and urged him to sit on the bed. Giles obeyed, but about halfway through his descent the pain in his ribs met and mingled with the abject weariness in his limbs. He found himself tumbling backwards, head and shoulders landing mercifully on the pillows where they belonged. His sudden loss of strength caught the Slayer off guard, and her small form followed him down. Buffy's arm was now pressed beneath him, her other limb having flailed across his torso in surprise, blond head pressed suddenly at the juncture of his chest and shoulder.

Not a sliver of air lay between them. Giles could feel her breasts pressed against the side of his body, and one of her legs had hooked around one of his in a bid to stop herself from sliding sideways off the mattress and ending up in a crumpled heap on the floor.

The Watcher and Slayer stayed put for a few awkward moments, sharing an uncomfortable silence. Giles' breathing was erratic, his traitorous body helplessly enthralled by the small feminine form sprawled on top of him. Buffy aggravated the situation by squirming. He was certain, absolutely certain, that she had no concept of the way in which this affected him. After a few torturous moments, she managed to push herself up, arms propped on either side of his body.

For a moment she just looked at him. Giles felt the potent sensation of Buffy's eyes carefully studying his face. Her expression softened, and Giles' breath hitched in surprise as she leaned her weight onto one arm and used her free hand to trace the bruise on the right side of his face with a featherlight touch. Her eyes latched onto his, and as soon as she realized what she was doing Buffy jumped slightly and started to disentangle herself from his body and scramble toward the edge of the bed.

"God, Giles, I'm sorry," she voiced, gifting him with an embarrassed smile. "Your ribs a- and everything. Having me falling all over you must be like a double whammy, or maybe even a triple. I-"

He grabbed her arm with gentle firmness, silencing her with both the gesture and a look. Slowly, he pulled her back toward where he lay on the bed.

"…Giles?"

The Watcher continued to draw Buffy's body back into contact with his own, only knowing that he wasn't ready to lose that connection even if every bit of sense he had left was telling him that this was a bad idea. There was one word telegraphing itself repeatedly across the back of his eyelids, which were closed against the light of the room and Buffy's flummoxed expression. Giles' guard was so far down that all he could bring himself to do was let the word fall from his lips. It was barely a whisper.

"Stay."

Eyes widening in surprise, Buffy complied, seeming a little apprehensive at first. She snuggled against him tentatively, gently returning her head to his shoulder. Her hand swept across his abdomen, fingers tracing an absent pattern atop the thin cotton of his undershirt. Giles pulled her tighter against him, enfolding her slender form in his arms. Her body was so warm and vital, her presence soothed his spell-shocked flesh with radiating heat from her skin. In spite of her apparent warmth, Buffy shivered against him, goose pimples forming on her arms. Giles managed to drag the comforter upwards, covering them up to Buffy's shoulders.

He wondered after three or four silent minutes if she had fallen asleep, but her slightly accelerated breathing suggested that she was still awake. Giles lay with his eyes shut, trying to just let the moment be what it was and not think about it too much. It was easy, really, until she gave him a slight squeeze. Her forehead was nuzzling against his shoulder until she raised her head to speak. Her words came quietly, almost plaintive.

"You're going with Willow, aren't you?" Her breath was hot against his collarbone. "Back to England I mean."

Buffy shifted restlessly, as if she could get just a little bit closer. Giles released a ragged sigh, allowing his arms to tighten around her and his fingers to stroke the inside of her wrist in small circles.

"I'm afraid I must, Buffy. This won't be easy for her, and she will need my support."

He allowed himself to glance at her and felt his heart breaking as she blinked back the tears she was trying so hard not to cry. "I wish…" Buffy released a small, unsteady sob. "I just wish you didn't have to leave again."

Without a second though, Giles pressed his lips against her temple in a consoling and tender kiss. He let his mouth linger against her hairline, one large hand cradling her head against his chest. "So do I , love." He felt the damp heat of her tears against his neck, leaking from her eyes even as her breathing became more even. His tone was soothing, full of unrestrained apology and longing. "So do I..."

With his Slayer's limbs wrapped around him in an embrace that seemed at once anguished and desperately ardent, Giles ignored the lingering pain in his ribs and hugged her back just as fiercely as they both descended into a deep and absolving sleep.

**xxxxxxxxxx**

The earliest light of day was peeking through the curtains, subdued and insubstantial. Buffy had been awake for awhile. The clock on the bedside table read five o'clock. She wanted to absorb as much as she could of the cozy and sheltering perfection of Giles' embrace before it would be time for them to rise. It had been pretty difficult not to release a sound of surprised pleasure when she woke to find herself snugly wrapped in her Watcher's strong arms, legs delightfully tangled, her face pressed against his neck and her lips against his skin. His even breathing was both a comfort and a curse, soothing Buffy and making her achingly aware of the hard-wearing life that flowed through him. The moment they had embraced in the Magic Box she had felt that special brand of heated energy that was uniquely Giles' flowing through her, bolstering her reserves of courage and reminding her what it really felt like to be alive.

God, how she had missed him, had craved that warmth which had always calmed her despite the underlying intensity he possessed. Buffy had wondered many times if her relationship with Giles was really meant to be something other than what it was, something more. Even Spike, who had the habit of being annoyingly perceptive, had expressed his curiosity on the subject. Maybe it was a defense mechanism, but the Slayer had never allowed herself to give the idea more than a fleeting thought. It never seemed like the right time to consider it; as quickly as the notion would hit her another reason to repress the urge would pop up and cause her to shove it aside, denying the spark before it had a chance to ignite.

With her body molded against his, clinging onto him for dear life after yet another apocalypse had passed them by, that spark had been fanned into flame. Buffy was finally able to give in and admit that her feelings for him were so much more than just _complicated_.

She knew the moment Giles was awake. He made a small throat-clearing noise and stretched one of his long legs, straightening it for a second or two and then returning it to its position where it had been wedged in between hers. Buffy made a small happy noise, and began to feather small touches onto Giles' arm, fingers slipping up under the sleeve of his undershirt. His deft fingers returned her caress, trailing lazy figure eights on her lower back where the black shirt had ridden up in her sleep. His other hand came up to brush a few strands of hair away from her face, tickling the shell of her ear.

Every hair on Buffy's body stood on end as they touched each other distractedly, heedless of intention as they both were busy thinking. Buffy's instincts seemed to be traveling in advance of her reason as her lips gained focus and pressed against Giles' neck, testing. He gasped, sliding his entire hand up the back of her shirt to press between her shoulder blades.

Somewhat reluctantly Buffy raised her head out of the warm crook of Giles' neck and peered at his face. His eye were surprisingly bright in the pale morning, lit by some passionate force within.

Buffy wasn't sure how long she stared, lost in his eyes and the feeling of his hand on the bare skin of her back. She could practically taste the regret on the horizon, because they both knew the time wasn't right for them to be together. But now, in this moment, it _was_ right. There was nothing that could be _more_ right. Outside of their embrace there was pain and the distant specter of problems to come, and there was sadness because Buffy knew he couldn't stay. There were so many things she wished she could say to him, so many demands she wished she could make for their lives. Out of all of these there was only one thing the Slayer could think of, one question to which she might get the answer that she wanted.

There was one thing she could ask of him that she thought he could say yes to, here, now, in this moment.

"Giles," she breathed.

His body was cradling hers tenderly, unoccupied hand sliding over to softly touch her cheek. He invited her inquiry with a slightly gruff "hmm?"

Buffy's heart was in her throat, voice unsteady as her face leaned over his. Her lips quivered as she whispered her question. "Kiss me?"

To her relief, Giles didn't argue or rationalize. He didn't stutter, blush, or look away. He simply released a shuddering breath, guided Buffy's face slowly closer, and pressed his lips searchingly against hers.

**xxxxxxxxxx**

Giles' world teetered unsteadily on its axis as Buffy's lips slid against his, accepting and persuasive, drawing him in with their innocent heat. His heart was hammering in his chest, body suddenly infused with a restless energy. He had always known somewhere in the back of his mind that they could be compatible, even shockingly well-suited for one another. But never, never could he have anticipated the electricity that shot through his limbs, the fire in his bloodstream as her lips touched his. It was wrenchingly unexpected but permeated with rapt amazement, like a loud clap of thunder under sunny skies.

Releasing an involuntary groan, Giles tilted his head to allow her better access. Buffy accepted his invitation, sucking his bottom lip between her soft ones and giving it a small bite. Her hand traced up his chest and over his neck, latching onto the side of his face and brushing her thumb over the skin at the corner of his mouth. He kissed her back with unbridled enthusiasm, crushing her body against his with the hand that was now digging the pads of its fingers into the silky skin of her back.

Briefly Giles wondered if he might have absorbed some of Buffy's supernatural healing simply through holding her, because his body felt so thrummingly alive that it was almost like the ordeal of the previous day had never happened. It was as if the resonance of their entwined bodies had erased his injuries and filled the magical holes with fiery deposits of sensual power. He felt energetic, exuberant, absolutely enthralled by the feeling of her body against his.

A fleeting thought did enter his mind, reminding him that this could end up only hurting more in the end, causing resentments and throwing up walls between them which had never been there before. But Giles felt reckless and wonderful, throwing off his worries as Buffy began placing small kisses along his jawline. Her eyes burned a message into his, which was the same as the conclusion he had arrived at himself- this might be their only chance, the one time in their lives of darkness and despair when they could be together the way they truly wanted. And if he was only going to have this one chance to make love to her, to give himself over to her completely, Giles vowed that he would have no regrets.

**xxxxxxxxxx**

Buffy managed to resist the urge to cry out in abandon as she felt Giles let loose, plunging his tongue into her willing mouth and hauling her body upward so that she lay directly on top of him. One of his hands dived under the covers and hooked one of her denim-clad legs at the knee, tugging it toward his hip and causing her to end up straddling his groin. She kissed him back with an unrestrained sensual ferocity like she had never felt before. With her other lovers, she was always holding something back. Whether it was love, empathy, trust, a buried piece of herself… there was always something she hadn't been able to let go of. Not so with Giles. Giles got everything. Everything she was, everything she had to give, it was all his for the taking.

Her body trembled pleasurably as he hauled the black shirt up over her head, tossing it carelessly away. Her hands fisted in the cotton of his undershirt while he watched her, drinking in her newly exposed skin with his eyes and letting his hands follow. Buffy rocked back just enough to slide her hands up the bottom of his t-shirt, causing both of them to gasp as she rolled her hips back into place. Giles' body stretched beneath her, and she could feel his cock hardening as she ground herself against it. She dragged the undershirt up, and he helped her peel it over his head and off his arms. Before she could make another move, Giles enfolded her upper body in his arms and pulled her flush against him, shuddering as their skin met, reveling in the heat.

"God, Buffy…" he trailed off into an inarticulate groan when her thumbs rolled over his nipples. Seeming almost impatient, he reached up and unfastened her bra, straining his abdomen upward so that he could fasten his searing mouth over her nipple. Buffy bit down on her own knuckle to stifle the moan that was trying to rend its way out, ever mindful of the fact that Dawn was asleep just two rooms away. Giles grabbed the hand she had bit, kissing the tooth-marked knuckle and dragging his lips down along her wrist and forearm.

In the next moment, Buffy found herself lying beneath her Watcher, arms pinned momentarily above her head as he nibbled on her earlobe. She made a slightly sensual squeaking sound, at which he chuckled briefly. Releasing her hands, Giles hovered above her with one leg on either side of her body. He took one hand and dragged it from the top of her forehead, down her face, across her lips, tracing past the hollow of her throat, making a brief detour to pinch her right nipple, continuing down her stomach with torturous slowness until he reached the waistband of her jeans. The way he touched her was like nothing Buffy had ever known, a fact that she telegraphed to him by virtue of her blushing skin and fluttering stomach muscles.

Hands were roaming everywhere as their remaining clothes were removed, with some amount of giggling involved due to the inclusion of Giles' socks. The two continued in a slow and comprehensive exploration of each other's bodies until the moment when their eyes met. Buffy was stroking Giles' thick and rock-hard cock with affectionate deliberation, silently urging the Watcher to press on to the next level. Quick to catch on as usual, Giles rolled their bodies so that Buffy was on top and positioned his aching member at her slick and waiting apex.

Slowly, Buffy sank onto him, feeling more complete with every inch of his shaft as she took him inside. Her breath came in shudders as he filled her completely, surging within her as he accustomed himself to the feel of her scorching heat. For a long moment the two simply watched each other, savoring the connection and the raw emotions laid out between them. Leaning her slender body forward, Buffy placed her hands on Giles' shoulders and rolled her hips hesitantly. Her feelings overwhelmed her as she felt how perfectly he fit inside her, the agonizing pleasure his body was sharing with hers. Raising one hand to trace his lips, she allowed the words to tumble out.

"Giles, I love you."

He grabbed her hand before she could pull it away, holding it against the side of his face as he returned her heated glance. "I've always loved you, Buffy. And I always will."

With that, the time for coherent speech was at an end. Buffy's hips moved in time with the upward thrusts made by Giles, using all the strength in his deceptively powerful core. Soon they were both trembling with need. Giles knew Buffy was headed over the edge as she began to ride him wildly, gripping his cock deep within her as she spasmed, biting into his shoulder to muffle her screams. She had never felt anything so powerful and intimate, wishing this moment with him could stretch on forever. As she rode the waves of her orgasm, he felt her lips next to his ear saying his name over and over again. The sound of his name like a prayer on her lips built him up to a point where he knew his orgasm was soon to follow.

He flipped them so that her body was beneath him and started fucking her with all the strength and passion his sure and solid frame possessed, moaning into her neck as he felt her start to come again. Buffy was holding on for dear life. He slid one arm beneath her, clutching her hard against him as he continued to slam his length into her body over and over. Soon the delicious heat and friction became too much. Stars exploded behind Giles eyelids as he emptied himself into her, absently feeling her small hands gripping at his backside to hold him inside of her as deep as he could go. After riding through a surprisingly lengthy series of aftershocks, Giles finally collapsed on top of Buffy, releasing an exultant noise that was both a moan and a delighted laugh.

Their sensitized limbs were slick with sweat as they cuddled against each other feeling totally content, if only for just one moment. They kissed with unhurried abandon, not wanting to let the moment end. Eventually they came to rest, having resumed their original position with Buffy cuddled against Giles' side, minus the barrier of clothing that previously separated them. He stroked her hair absently and she buried her face back into the crook of his neck, cursing the inevitability of sleep. Both Watcher and Slayer knew that when they woke again, the outside world would be waiting.

Although the lovers understood that it might never be the right time for them, they were happy to spend this moment basking silently in a love that was flawless and incomparable. Even if this was all they ever got, if they couldn't be together ever again, in this one perfect and unguarded moment they knew each other's hearts.

**XXXXXXXXXX  
XXXXXXXXXX**

That's it! Please let me know what you thought. Too angsty? Too smutty? Not enough cowbell? Opinions are greatly valued and rewarded with cherry candy canes… or more cowbell, depending on what floats your boat...


End file.
